Town Square, The (15 page)

Maybelline waved next to her. “It was fun. We’re going to practice, so we can take the Hale brothers next time.”

George rubbed his hands together. “Can’t wait for that. See ya.”

“Good night, Arthur,” Harriet said, ducking her head.

Yeah, she was thinking the same thing he was. No goodnight kiss.

Dating in a small town had its drawbacks.

“I’ll see you tomorrow,” he said and then waved.

As they pulled away, his brother turned to him. “Are you going to tell me what’s going on between you and that woman?”

Crap. He hung his wrist loosely on the steering wheel. “We’re seeing each other.”

“I know that. What I don’t know is what you’re helping her hide.”

He slowed when they came to another street even though it was as black as pitch, and there wasn’t another car in sight. His brother was too smart by half. “Let’s leave this be. So tell me about the dig.”

“Mr. Journalist is changing the subject?” George asked, turning in his seat. “Not this time. Mom said Harriet and Maybelline arrived from Denver and aren’t related to the local Jenkins family. Oh, and Denver isn’t where they play candlepin bowling.”

Yeah, and they’d made that slip all too easily. “George, I’m asking you to let this go.”

“Why can’t you talk about it? Her sister studied theater, which I’m pretty sure isn’t offered at any of the schools in Denver. Plus, they fairly scream upper class with all that polish. Maybelline is easier going, but seriously, Arthur, nothing about them adds up.”

Lying to the town for Harriet was one thing, and if anyone asked about her roots, he evaded. Lying to his brother was something else entirely.

“There are things I can’t tell you yet, George. Please drop it.” He jerked on the shift and put it into fifth as he crested out of town to their parent’s house to drop his brother off.

“Are they in trouble?” George asked, finally turning down the radio station playing “Are You Lonesome Tonight?”

Yeah, Elvis
, he thought,
I am. I’d rather be with Harriet than my brother right now.

“Look, I can’t talk about it, okay?”

Even though he’d told Emmits, he knew the family code. If he told George, his brother would tell his dad, or his mom would wheedle it out of him. It’s what she did best.

“
Now
I understand why you haven’t brought her to the house for supper. I don’t like this, Arthur. You’ve just gotten back in town after being gone five years, and you’re trying to set up something that most people here think makes you too big for your britches. And you’re dating a mysterious woman and hiding things for her. No, I don’t like this at all.”

Arthur’s pulse started pounding, and he eased off the accelerator and pulled off the highway at the next scenic point. Turning in his seat, he glared at his brother.

“Look, I know people think I’ve picked up some strange ideas out East, but dammit, I hoped you of all people would understand why I left and why I came back.”

George slumped in his seat and kicked out his legs. “I do. You know, I didn’t think you were coming back when you left for New York—neither did Mom and Pop—but when you said you were opening up ‘The New Voice of the West’ in Dare, I wasn’t sure Dare was the right place for it. People here don’t like change and big ideas, Arthur. And with Mr. Merriam starting a university, people—”

“Dammit!” Arthur slammed his hand into the steering wheel. “What’s so wrong with big ideas? It’s what this country was founded on. Emmits has a vision for higher learning out here, and I have one for putting out a newspaper that represents
these people’s
thoughts. I would think I’d have their support.”

The sigh his brother gave was long and deep. “People fear what they don’t know. People think you and Emmits don’t think Dare is good enough as it is, and that’s why you’re trying to change it.”

“I love Dare, for cripes sake, but after trying to date Harriet here, I can say I support change. People need to mind their own goddamn business. I can’t even kiss her goodnight, for heaven’s sake, without the news being spread across Dare by lunchtime.”

“More like breakfast,” his brother tried to joke, elbowing him for good measure.

But he held himself stiffly. Knowing people were talking about him bothered him plenty, but hearing they doubted him burned like a boil on the skin.

“The newspaper and Harriet are a lot to accept after all the time you were gone. Mr. Franklin thinks she was your secretary in New York, and you’re only pretending not to have met before.”

“Wonderful!” he harrumphed. “Why would I orchestrate such a thing?”

“Perhaps she’s having your baby.”

He growled, making George throw up his hands in surrender.

“Come on. You have to laugh a little. Folks like to tell tall tales. Did you lose your funny bone?”

He turned and faced his brother in the muted light from the dashboard. “You wouldn’t be laughing if they were saying these things about you.”

“No, you’re probably right. But you’ve changed, and people need to get used to the new you.” His brother shook him playfully. “You’re not the same boy who left Dare.”

No, he was a man now, and he lived life on his own terms. “So what do I do?”

“Well, first, I’d suggest that you start inviting people over to the newspaper for coffee.”

His brows bunched together. “What? I’m working.”

George held up his hands. “I know, but seriously, people have said you’re not friendly anymore, that you’re not even willing to take a coffee break. You know how people around here do it throughout the day.”

He hit the steering wheel again. “Yeah, and it lasts too long. I’m starting up a business, for cripes sake.”

“Arthur, even Mom said she’s stopped dropping in because you seemed too busy to talk to her.”

“Oh, crap,” he said. That made him hang his head.

“She and Pops have been giving you space—they know you’re trying to get your bearings and start a business—but it’s hurt them, not having you come around as much.”

He gripped the wheel. “I come for Sunday dinner.”

“They want to see you more than that. And they
are
hurt you haven’t introduced them to Harriet. They’re more than a little confused by that, Arthur.”

Oh, no. Not that. “I don’t know what to do.” In trying not to lie to the people who meant the most to him, he’d hurt them instead.

“Slow down for one. You can’t become ‘The Voice of the West’ overnight. Despite what Mr. Merriam says. And ask Mom and Pops to drop by when they’re in town.” He turned up the heat since the car had gotten cool while they were idling. “As for Harriet…I don’t know what to tell you without knowing the full story.”

Emmits was right. They had to deal with Harriet’s past. This could not go on, not when it was hurting his family. “I’ll handle it.”

“Okay,” George said.

“You just get back today, and you already know this much?” he asked, putting the car in gear and easing back onto the highway.

“I had coffee with Mom and Pops earlier.”

“And how long did that take?” he mused.

George snorted out a laugh. “About two hours.”

“Figures,” Arthur muttered. “How long are you staying?”

“I don’t have my next site visit for a couple of weeks, so I’m around if you need anything.”

“Do you have ink in your veins?” he asked as a joke.

In his peripheral vision, he saw his brother turn his hands over and stare at his arms. “Gads no. Why?”

“My kids will and their kids too,” he said, knowing he was building something for his family, something future generations could take part in with pride.

“You always did dream big Arthur.”

As he drove down the snow–covered lane to their parent’s simple ranch house and dropped his brother off, he made himself a promise.

He wouldn’t stop dreaming just because he was back in Dare.

Chapter 15

T
he zing of Arthur’s typewriter and the chatter of the staff swirled around Harriet. The bookkeeper was friendly and liked to joke. His wife had baked an apple pie, and she’d enjoyed a piece along with everyone else, standing around the newly installed water cooler in the break room. People were still curious about her, but it was bothering her less.

Except when they asked where she was from.

Trying to utter ‘Denver’ had become harder, like she was losing her voice.

At five o’clock, everyone grabbed their coats off the shiny brass coat rack that Arthur had installed by the front door at her insistence. Harriet hung back since Arthur was taking her to supper tonight. Reaching into her purse, she pulled out her compact and eyed her hair in the mirror, smoothing back an errant curl that had escaped near her ear.

“I like seeing your hair a little mussed,” Arthur said from behind her.

She jumped a mile and snapped her mirror shut with a clack. “It’s not nice to sneak up on people.”

His blue eyes were twinkling. “I couldn’t help it. I like knowing that you’re prettying up for our date.”

“Then shoo,” she said, motioning her hand like a scythe. “I need to put on some lipstick.”

“I like the red one,” he said and chuckled. “Okay, I’m going. Just holler when you’re ready.”

Like she’d ever holler. Ladies didn’t holler.

She took her time, and ten minutes later, she leaned against the doorframe of his office
.
Arthur’s back was to her, his fingers moving across the typewriter with his usual intensity and urgency, as if the words he had to write were a matter of life and death.

“I’m ready,” she said, and even to her ears, her voice sounded husky.

He swiveled in his chair and leaned back. “Well, well. Now that was worth waiting for.”

Pursing her lip to fight the smile that wanted to spread across her face, she didn’t move from her place at the door. “I’m glad you think so.”

Rising slowly from his chair, he strolled toward her. “You don’t mind if I kiss you, do you? I don’t think I can wait until after supper.”

They’d never kissed in the office before. Part of her had felt it was too tawdry, the boss and his secretary fooling around at work. The other part knew people in Dare walked into the office all the time, especially now that they had a growing staff, and wouldn’t that be embarrassing?

A blush slid across her cheeks. “Let’s wait. I just put my lipstick on.”

His hand eased into his pocket, and he dangled a handkerchief in front of her like the line judge at a horse race. “I always come prepared.”

Her heartbeat pounded against her ribs, and her gaze fell to his lips.”Someone could walk in.”

“They already know we’re dating,” he volleyed back, his voice dark and tempting.

She cleared her throat. “I want to, but I…I don’t want them thinking we’re…” Her hand made an impatient gesture.

His face softened, and he tucked the handkerchief away. “Fooling around at the office. I understand. Let’s go.”

For some reason, she’d expected him to push, and then perhaps condemn her for being a prude.

Edging out of his doorway to let him to pass, she touched his arm. “Thank you.”

He winked that mischievous wink of his that raised her blood pressure. “Sure thing.” Then he walked forward and looked over his shoulder. “Sweetheart.”

Her mouth dropped open, and she darted across the floor and gave him a playful punch in the back. “I told you not to call me that!”

His shoulders shook as he continued ahead and grabbed his coat from the coat rack. “I couldn’t help myself. Just this once. Seeing your reaction was worth it. Plus, you hit like a girl.”

She grabbed her purse and shrugged her navy coat on. “I
am
a girl, so there’s nothing offensive to me about that comment.”

His hands helped her with her coat and then spun her around, doing up her buttons. “And I’m glad you’re a girl.” She could hear the smile in his voice. “You ready for supper?”

“Yes,” she said.

When they arrived at Nellie’s Tavern, their favorite haunt, Bertha greeted them with a smile and led them to a table.

“We’re going to take the one in the back, if that’s all right. Big story to discuss,” he told Bertha conspiratorially and waved to Vernon the bartender.

“Of course,” she replied and gave them menus as soon as they were seated.

Harriet lifted an eyebrow. “What big story?”

“Let’s order first,” he said, picking up the menu even though they both knew it by heart.

Watching him, she realized he seemed a bit nervous, his hands hadn’t stopped moving, like they missed dancing across the typewriter.

She settled her own menu in her lap, and they gave their orders when Bertha arrived. He asked for a Manhattan, and she decided to go with a vodka tonic.

“Okay, let’s hear it,” she said when they were alone again.

His fingers continued tapping the table. “Hmm…I don’t know how to bring this up.” His laughter was self–conscious.

Self–conscious? Arthur Hale? Her guard immediately went up. The back table. His nerves.

“You’re breaking up with me,” she said in shock.

His head whipped back. “What? No. Good God, Harriet.” He reached for her hand and gripped it. “No, that’s not what this was about.”

The heart that had just taken a swan dive in her chest, settled back in place. “Okay, then what’s going on?”

Arthur was usually Mr. Cool or Mr. Charming. Not Mr. Nervous. Her heart hustled to the diving board again when another thought occurred to her.

He’s not going to ask me to marry him, is he?

“It’s about your name,” he said and blew out a breath.

And any thoughts of rings and flowers subsided, replaced with darker thoughts. The ones that kept her awake nights.

“The real one. And what you’ve told people here, and what’s the real truth. It was awkward…the other night at the bowling alley.”

Acid burned in her stomach.

“My brother suspects something,” he informed her, gripping her hand. “And I’ve talked to Emmits about this too. If Maybelline wants to go to the university here, he can handle the transcript issue. The difference in names.”

She bit her lip. Hadn’t she and Maybelline discussed the same issue without any idea how to resolve it?